


"Guest Bedroom"

by qrovers



Category: Mythic Quest: Raven's Banquet (TV)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Fluff, Gen, LOW EMPATH BRAD RISE!!!!, bc I said so, i just love their friendship guys, platonic, rachel has mommy issues, this is very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qrovers/pseuds/qrovers
Summary: Brad didn't know what to expect when he heard his doorbell ring on a rainy Sunday evening, but he definitely wasn't expecting Annoying Tester #1 to be soaking wet on the other side of the door.(“My name’s Rachel,” she once told him, as if he cared.)-Rachel sleeps over at Brad's house.
Relationships: Brad Bakshi & Rachel
Comments: 15
Kudos: 32





	"Guest Bedroom"

Brad didn't know what to expect when he heard his doorbell ring on a rainy Sunday evening, but he definitely wasn't expecting Annoying Tester #1 to be soaking wet on the other side of the door. 

(“My name’s Rachel,” she once told him, as if he cared.) 

“Brad.” Is what she says now. 

“Tester.” He answers, one note.

She doesn't correct him this time. Something's probably wrong. 

She says, “I know you told me to only go to you if it was work related—”

“Did something happen at MQ?”

“Not exactly…”

He turns away and starts closing the door. Rachel lightly puts her hand on it to stop him, and he does, begrudgingly looking back at her. He pauses, because now she looks different. Smaller, sadder, maybe, he can't really get a read on her face. 

“What do you want?” He asks, not angry.

Rachel thinks for a moment, eyes trained on her hand. She inhales deep enough for it to be heard and says, “Can I come in?”

Another thinking moment, this time from Brad. He squints his eyes and stares then walks away from the door without another word. 

Hesitation from Rachel. She just stands outside for a second, trying to be sure Brad’s actually letting her in.

Then she hears, “Take off your shoes.” And she does. 

When she comes in, a towel is hurled her way, hitting her face with a bit too much force than necessary. 

Muffled by the (incredibly soft, by the way) towel he threw, Brad says, “Don't fucking drip on my carpet.”

And Rachel replies with a small, “Thanks.”

#

Brad makes coffee. 

Brad makes warm coffee  _ just for himself  _ and sips it in front of Rachel as they both sit across each other at his dining table. He’s reading something on his phone, not really paying her any attention.

Maybe she didn't think this through. She actually didn't think about it enough to garner expectations for this visit. She just saw someone she didn't want to see and ran. Now she's sitting here in Brad’s clothes, with her dripping clothes in his dryer, watching him stir his coffee. 

Passive aggressively, she asks, “Is the coffee any good?”

With smugness, he replies, “Oh, it's amazing.”

She gives him a tight smile. “That's great.”

A beat.

She looks around to ignore the awkwardness. His walls are bare, with barely any photos of family or friends or significant others. He substitutes it for boring, postmodern paintings that makes Rachel crinkle her nose.

There is one small, framed photo right at the bar separating his kitchen from his dining room. It's barely noticeable, but it looks like two kids, a boy and girl, with their arms around each other, laughing. The boy looks significantly smaller, like a younger brother. Rachel wonders if that's Brad. 

He sees her staring at the picture and clears his throat to get her attention. “So, uh…”

A pause. 

He looks at his phone again. His next words sound like he’s reading from a script. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Immediately, “No.”

“Okay then.”

More awkward silence. Awkward silence intensified, actually. 

Rachel finally takes up the courage to ask what she came here to do.

“Can I stay the night?”

“Excuse me?” 

“I’ll sleep on the couch—”

Brad puts his phone on the table and leans closer. “I’m not a motel.”

Rachel catches a glimpse of his screen. He googled  _ how to comfort someone annoying. _

Brad continues, “Also, where the fuck is Dana?”

“Out of town. You know I’d be desperate if I had to come to you.”

“And you know what would happen when you ask a favor from me?”

“Like I said. Desperate.”

A beat. 

Rachel's fingers curl up on her lap when she says, “I saw my mom and just…” She trails off, not really sure how to word it. 

Brad looks at her, like he's calculating the opportunity cost of making her leave. He surprises her by saying, “Fine, I’ll show you your bed.”

#

Brad’s spare bedroom is really fucking big. He just shows it to Rachel like it isn't probably twice the size of her apartment and leaves without another word. 

Rachel doesn't let herself react when he shows it to her, though, probably out of stubbornness, maybe because when he closes the door she starts jumping around and wiggling her hands at the sight of the space. Just—wow that is so much space.

#

Okay. Turns out there's a thing called  _ too much  _ space.

Maybe it's because of Rachel’s cramped apartment seeping into her spatial awareness, every hour she spends in the room, it feels like it's getting bigger. 

She's lying down on the bed, under silk sheets and expensive pillows, looking up at the ceiling. She can't sleep, she's not really sure why so, with a bit of protest from her very tired body, she climbs out the king sized bed and goes to get a cup of water. 

She tries to be quiet to not disturb Brad, but she learns that she doesn't have to when she finds him in the living room. 

His sofa turns out to be a pull out, though it looks more expensive than a regular one. He’s leaning back with his phone in his hands and his legs under a similar blanket Rachel has in her room. He wears silk pajamas and a sleeping mask is pushed up to his forehead.

Rachel asks, “Are you sleeping on the couch?”

Brad responds, “Why are you awake?”

“I was gonna get some water—Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“I don't have an extra bedroom.”

Rachel blinks. “You have an indoor money bin and no guest room.”

“I live alone.”

“That's why it's for  _ guests.” _

“I don't get many guests.” 

“That's really sad.”

“You literally asked to sleep over with me.” Brad says, like it isn't a self diss. “Anyway, why are you awake? It's 3 a.m.”

“I wanted to get some water.” She points to his kitchen and walks towards it. Then she stops and looks back at him. She says, “I think I’m ready to talk about it now. Do you wanna hear it?”

_ Not really.  _ Is what he looks like he wants to say, but it's like she can see him swallow the words as he shrugs his shoulders. 

“Sure,” he says. 

And she tells him how her mom wants to reconnect with her. How she's not ready for that, at least not yet. Because there's a lot of shit in between what her mom wants and what she did, so Rachel doesn't know what to do. 

Surprisingly, Brad listens. Hell, Brad  _ relates,  _ he just doesn't say. He doesn't say because he can tell Rachel's tired after talking. 

(And he gives himself a mini celebration for noticing without a cheat sheet.)

She says goodnight. 

He says it back. 

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

#

Brad makes Rachel drive his car to work the next day. When they arrive at the parking lot, he tells her, “Your debt is paid.”

She smiles. “Thank you.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter im @cooklecash !


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